


Like Magic

by jellyyscribs



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Slice of Life, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyyscribs/pseuds/jellyyscribs
Summary: This is a collection of all the pieces created for Love Like Yours Fest over on Tumblr. There are 7 snippets of moments of the relationship between Asra and my female apprentice Bentleigh. (Most chapters are very General Audiences, only one is Mature)
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana)
Kudos: 7





	1. Should've Known From The Start

Fortune tellers always seemed more like a parlour trick to her. Great for parties. Entertaining. A weave of drama, intrigue, romance, whatever the customer wanted. And she was familiar with the business of satisfying customers’ needs; especially when it came to their perception of the arcane arts, but that was neither here nor there for her at that moment. She was at a ball and what was she to do there if not to be entertained. 

Bentleigh readjusted her mask, the feathers cascading past her temples, the bright colours almost appearing to blend into her hair, matching perfectly to the threads woven throughout her long braids. The coloured braids were her signature look, as if she has flourished in a lush environment and absorbed all of its colour into her. 

No one at the ball was behind a mask for anonymity, she certainly wasn’t. It was just the level of extravagance that she had come to expect from the Count. It was his birthday after all, and the celebration called for every possible form of opulence and entertainment possible-- including fortune tellers. 

One particular teller caught her eye. She didn’t recognize him beyond the mask, but she was immediately drawn to what she could see-- bright violet eyes, clearly shining with a glint of mischief as he pulled cards out from his deck and proceeded to tell interested parties their fortune. Naturally they all walked away looking incredibly pleased with what was foretold. 

Curiosity getting the better of her, Bentleigh approached the mysterious teller when he appeared free. As if expecting her arrival, he was already shuffling his deck and offered it to her. Just because she didn’t always believe in the cards didn’t mean she was unaccustomed to its presentation. She merely raised an eyebrow and took the proffered deck. She cut it in half and pulled out three cards. A simple three-card spread; past, present, future. 

The teller gave her a smirk in response as though he knew he was being held to high expectations and that he planned on not only meeting them, but exceeding them to win her favour. Bentleigh held back from rolling her eyes at his cocksure attitude, she would be the judge of his skill. 

He flipped over the first card with little fanfare, much less so than she had seen him do with others. Begrudgingly she would concede he could at least read his clients. 

_ The Six of Wands.  _

Finally he spoke, “Success.”

Bentleigh couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her. “Naturally,” she responded. “Tell me, what do you define as success? I managed to fully dress myself this morning without making a fool of myself. Is that my past success?” Bentleigh challenged. There was something about the smirk on his face that made her want to press, to see if she could break it.

She wasn’t able to. If anything, his eyes twinkled brighter, seemingly pleased by a challenge as opposed to his regular readings of easily impressed citizens alike. 

He shrugged with a casual air about him, “The cards are open to interpretation by those who draw them, they are our guide, not law. Fully dressing yourself could be considered a success to some, but I think there’s something you’re far more proud of.” 

“Perhaps,” was all Bentleigh supplied in return. “Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be able to tell me?”

The teller’s grin grew wider as he started to move his hand to flip over the second card, “I have some ideas, but to be honest I’d rather hear you tell it.” 

“And I want to hear what you can read from the cards about me.” 

He gave a low chuckle. “Then it seems we are at an impasse for the time being.” 

Once again with little fanfare he flipped the next card. 

_ The King of Coins _

“Stability.”

“It’s no secret I have a magic shop. It is both successful and stable.” Bentleigh stated bluntly. “Success and stability are pretty generic for a reading and almost wholly too positive. What, no death?”

“Ah,” he started, reaching for the final card. “Past and present is what you already know, naturally it’s a little less exciting for someone as astute as yourself.”

Bentleigh could have sworn she saw the flicker of a wink behind his mask. 

“It’s the last card that’s always the most exciting. Shall we see what your future has in store for you?”

She gestured at him, ready for the final reveal.

_ The Lovers _

Once she saw the familiar silhouette of two figures entwined with another, Bentleigh let out a bark of surprise. 

“How clich é !”

The teller was already placing her cards back into his deck as he gently explained, “Or maybe you’re simply living right, the cards have little to warn you about. But you must know, the Lovers isn’t always about romance. Sometimes it can be about a choice you must make. Maybe this choice you make sometime in the future gives you the adventure you so crave.” 

Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but grin. He was teasing her! She found him equal parts infuriating with his soft demeanour, as well as intriguing- his eyes giving way to much more hidden within him, and she was only getting a sample of it. 

“Life is always full of choices. That’s not unique. In fact, I’m about to make a choice right now.” 

She had caught his attention with her bold proclamation, as he drew his eyes away from packing his deck, the soft white curls of his hair bouncing around his mask at the speed at which he raised his head to look at Bentleigh fully, his attention undivided, as he waited for her to continue. 

There was a smoulder in his intensity that captured Bentleigh just so, and she wanted nothing more than to fan the flame, wondering how much she could pull out from such a mysterious stranger. And that was when she made her decision. 

“I choose to wish to learn more about these cards of yours.” Normally she would just walk away after such a reading but every fiber of her being was drawn to him. “Perhaps you can tell me more about them, and yourself over a dance.” 

Bentleigh offered her hand to the teller before her, finding that he was quick to place his own hand in hers. He had already packed everything, not just his card deck away. 

“The cards warned me to expect as much,” he explained, a soft whisper into her ear, as if he could read her mind. 

The warmth from his breath danced across her cheeks, and she squeezed his palm reactively in surprise, already finding that he was squeezing back. In the confines of their contact, she couldn’t explain it, but she could almost hear whispers of her reading at the back of her mind. In this touch she saw and felt it all; the success, the security, the romance. All she had to do was choose. 

Neither of them lessened their grip on one another as they made their way to the ballroom floor. They exchanged no words but their movements already felt so in sync and Bentleigh found herself comfortable in the silence. 

It wasn’t until they were situated in the middle of the dancefloor, his hands placed low on her hips, her arms slung around his neck, that Bentleigh finally made the leap. 

“My name is Bentleigh, by the way.” 

His sharp grin was belied by the soft contours of his face. 

“Asra.”

  
  
  
  



	2. Just Us Two

Quiet. 

It was almost too quiet. 

After everything they had been through, Bentleigh took a deep inhale, savouring the peace. She knew it probably wasn’t going to be long until something else was to happen. Her life was so different now, dying and being brought back to life and making new friends was bound to have that effect she supposed. 

Lost in her thoughts, grabbing a few dried flowers and crystals off of the shelves of her magic shop, she decided she’d take the time to experiment a little more with her magic, potentially finding new ways to enhance it, or at the very least add some flair to it. What was magic without a little fun; it was Asra who had taught her that. Regaining her memories, she remembers how she was before him. Studious in her practice, her goal only to be powerful and the best and what she did. Bentleigh was always a bit impulsive, and her desire to be stronger led her to make risky choices. 

Thankfully, a bold choice convinced her to chase after a white-haired magician, and together she learned a new perspective, that there was a beauty to what they could do, not just a power. 

Dropping the flowers into a mortar, she began to crush them, and a soft smile spread over her face as the memory of her and Asra at the last masquerade bubbled to the forefront of her mind. She recalls the colours and the smells of the incense, their touches leaving trails of magic, a galaxy of colours swirling around them. 

Unconsciously Bentleigh reached for herbs with a similar scent to that night, adding them into her powdery mixture, when she felt a pair of sturdy arms wrap tightly around her waist and a face nuzzling immediately into the junction of her shoulder and neck, his curly hair tickling her as it brushed against her chin. She grinned inwardly at her newly arrived companion. 

“That smells familiar,” he mumbled into her neck, placing a soft kiss there and making no apparent actions to move away from his particular spot. 

Bentleigh blinked, taking in the smell. She had done it all unconsciously and her face blushed ever so slightly when she had come to realize what she had done. 

“I suppose it does.” She tilted her head slightly to give Asra an answering kiss on his forehead. 

His only response was to squeeze her tighter, kissing his way up from her neck to her ear, and finally when his head was high enough, he lazily examined the work she had before them. 

“What’re you working on?” He spoke softly, he was so close to Bentleigh afterall, and the movements of his hands proved he was more preoccupied in continuing to absorb her touch, but she knew him well enough to hear the hint of curiosity in his voice. 

Her own hands had been placed against his when they had found purchase on her sides, fingers entwined and playing with one another, but at his question, she gave his hands a final tender squeeze before letting go. 

“I’m not sure it’ll work, I’m just experimenting afterall. But I guess there’s only one way to find out right?” Bentleigh explained as she took a pinch of the dried herbs and flowers powder. 

She closed her eyes to focus on adding magical energy into the powder in between her fingers, when she felt a kiss press into her cheek. The kiss had more conviction in it than compared to his previous kisses. 

“Of course it’ll work. You’re an amazing magician, Bentleigh.”

Asra always had so much faith in her abilities, but he was strong too. She could feel a caress of his own magic that lingered on her cheek from the kiss, and with more focus, she directed it into the powders as well. 

Once she felt satisfied with how it felt, Bentleigh opened her eyes to see the powder between her fingers giving off a soft golden glow.  _ So far so good.  _ With her other hand she reached for the nearby crystal. 

Even if Asra wasn’t showing his support physically, giving her encouraging squeezes on her hips along the way, she could feel the intensity of his gaze now watching her every movement. 

Once the crystal was in place she sprinkled the powder over it, once again focusing her magics. The powders dispersed into the crystal, and she could see the flecks of gold now embedded within. 

_ Now for the moment of truth.  _

Taking a steadying breath and closing her eyes once again, she centered herself and with a final focus of magic gave a gentle blow against the crystal. 

“Bentleigh,” Asra gasped. “That’s amazing.” His lips touched her jaw in congratulations. “You’re amazing.” 

Bentleigh opened her eyes to see what she had hoped. From the crystal small puffs of golden smoke were emerging and filling the area around them with the warm scent of the herbs she had chosen earlier. Much like incense, except if she had done it correctly, it didn’t need a flame to start and would last much longer. With the crystal as her source, it also had the effect of giving the smoke more radiance than she had anticipated. A pleasant side effect she had decided when she finally turned around in Asra’s arms to face him properly beaming with pride. His own expression matched hers unequivocally. 

She took Asra’s face into her hands, her thumbs stroking along his cheekbones as she studied the affection in his eyes as he gazed at her in return. Like always, drawn to him like a magnet, she closed the distance between them, finally pressing their lips together, her own lips smirking as she heard his satisfied moan upon contact. 

Taking the opportunity that presented itself, she coaxed her tongue past the opening of his lips to deepen the kiss, when she heard the door opening. 

“Asra, Bentleigh, we’re here! And we’ve brought you two some groceries. We know how caught up you two get in the shop sometimes, you forget to eat a proper meal, and rice pudding doesn’t--  _ oh _ .” 

Asra’s parents had walked into the shop, as they often did every few days to dote on the two of them. Asra had given them a key to the shop, not that Bentleigh had protested, but was now having second thoughts. 

Salim had let out a bark of laughter. While Aisha, at least had the decency to pretend to look sheepish but Bentleigh could see that sparkle of mischief in her eyes, she had seen it in Asra so many times. 

“Or caught up with  _ other  _ things, I suppose.” Salim had snickered. 

Bentleigh groaned, sinking into Asra and hiding her face against his chest, while Asra laughed. 

He was lucky she loved him. 


	3. Feelings of the Heart

“I should probably go back for a bit, before he gets too worried.”

“I think you should stay.”

Asra chuckled, despite claiming that he should go, his actions said otherwise; as he rolled onto his side on the bed they were currently sharing, his limbs reaching out, pulling him closer to Bentleigh. 

“A very persuasive argument.”

“No I mean it,” Bentleigh began, allowing herself to be handled by the magician beside her, his attempt to find the most optimal position of comfort. “You should just stay here. Live with me. In the shop.” Bentleigh didn’t think she could make herself more clear as she punctuated each sentence in a way that left little for misinterpretation. 

“What?” Asra stopped wriggling around to stare fully at the woman in his arms. “What did you just say?” 

Bentleigh made a show of rolling her eyes in response, as if what she had just suggested wasn’t that big of a deal, it was more a matter of practicality than anything, but the flush spreading across her cheeks gave her away. 

Trying to play it off, she gave him a light pinch on his backside. “You heard me. Or are you still asleep?”

Asra shook his head, his white curls dishevelled from sleep flounced about his face giving him an air of innocence that Bentleigh knew to be more of an act, especially if he wanted something. He maneuvered some more until he was above his companion and leaned forward, effectively caging Bentleigh beneath him. 

Bringing his face closer to hers, until the tips of his curls brushed against her face making her giggle. He gazed at her intensely through half-lidded eyes, “I want you to say it again.”

_ Oh, two could play at this game. _

Bentleigh surged forward, taking advantage of their current close proximity, to kiss Asra. The impact of which, even if it wasn’t a deep kiss, was enough to distract Asra, his automatic response of his mouth moving, seeking more, was just what Bentleigh needed to switch their positions. Hooking her arms around his shoulders during the kiss, she rolled the two of them around until she was the one above him. 

Just to tease him a bit further, she placed chaste pecks around his face, the tip of his nose, his eyelids, on the forehead, across his cheeks, she kept going until he let out a small whine and the tips of his ears were starting to turn red. Satisfied she pulled back to admire her handiwork. Bentleigh adored the view before her, Asra’s hair splayed out against the dark pillow, the contrast giving Asra a halo-like effect, the blush spreading down his neck and towards his chest. His robe had opened during their tussle so that she had an excellent view of the exposed chest and a peek of the abs below. 

Every morning that she got to wake up to that sight before her was her favourite morning, and she didn’t want to have a morning without it anymore. She had reached a point where she  _ needed  _ Asra to be by her side always. Of course, he’d have his bouts of wanderlust, and she had a shop to tend to so she couldn’t join him, but she wanted to be the one he came home to. The knowledge that her face would be the first he saw when he did return would set her heart more at ease. Her heart had found a home with Asra as much as it did with her shop, and she could no longer bear having it away from her. 

Caught up in her thoughts, words she couldn’t say, she simply continued to lavish Asra with her attention, hoping that her feelings could be said through action alone. Starting from his jaw, she worked her mouth down his neck, placing a delicate kiss to the jut of his throat, releasing a soft moan from him, before she continued down further, peppering his chest with her kisses. His body arched up towards her, and one of his hands sought her hair, his fingers carefully combing through it, while his other hand gently cradled her face, pulling her up to look at him. 

As soon as they made eye contact, she knew she was at his mercy. The deep affection he had for her in his gaze, she would do anything for that look. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking about Bentleigh.”

She closed her eyes, in a poor attempt to not be swayed by his violet hues, and shook her head. She didn’t want to say it. Actions were one thing, but to say it out loud was a level of vulnerability she had never experienced before. 

“Hey,” Asra started, his hand in her hair reached out for her hand instead. He pulled her hand toward him, placing a warm kiss into her palm, before placing her palm on his chest,  _ over his heart,  _ and holding it tightly there. “Look at me.” 

Everything she was feeling, he was feeling too. She knew it to be true, so she opened her eyes again and looked at him. He had a smirk on his face, and when she finally looked, he raised a cocksure eyebrow. It was enough to make her snort and shake her head affectionately at him, distracting her from her building nerves. Thankful, she turned her own head, still cradled in his hand, and gave him a returning kiss into his palm. 

Bentleigh took a deep breath. 

“I-” 

The hand holding her own, gave her an encouraging squeeze. 

“I love you. I want you to live with me. I want to be your home.”

Asra’s smirk turned into a radiant grin of joy and affecting. He pulled her face in closer towards him so he could respond, barely above a whisper. 

“I love you too and you are already my home.”

Together they closed the distance between them, sealing their future together. 

  
  
  



	4. Just Trying To Be In This

Unlocking the door to the store and entering, Bentleigh had expected the worst. Looking around, it was silent and she could see the empty spots on the shelves and the missing scarf that usually hung off the corner of the bed on warm days. Asra had already left. He didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye to her face. She should have known, she expected it even, yet experiencing it still stung, and she gave a frustrated sigh as she worked to blink back the burning tears threatening to escape. 

This was probably their first real fight, sure, they had little arguments here and there before, but this was the first one that left her shaking. Unsure of where they had left off with their relationship. She was struggling to breathe, as the memories came flooding back. 

Asra insisted they flee, run away together; he knew a place far away that would harbour them from the dangers of the plague. Bentleigh accused him of being cowardly. Both of them had a beautiful gift bestowed upon them that they could use to help people. She didn’t study magic day in and out simply for a few parlour tricks, she wanted to use her abilities to make a difference. To help people, even if that meant putting her own life at risk. 

Slamming her bag down onto the ground, upset with herself for letting her temper get the better of her, upset at Asra for not wanting what she wanted, Bentleigh knocked it against the side of a tall case, rocking a few of the glass vials within it precariously. One vial tipped and crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces. 

She couldn’t be bothered to clean it up. All she wanted was to throw herself into her very apparent empty bed and hope it was all a nasty nightmare when she was to next open her eyes. 

Just as she was about to quite literally throw herself into the bed, the sound of the back door opening caught her attention. Had Asra returned? Had he changed his mind? Did he simply go for a walk to cool off? She had to know. 

Quietly, she made her way out of the bedroom, and in the store, she recognized the familiar silhouette; tall, a little lanky, draped in loose layers, and an unmistakable fluff of curly white hair atop. He hadn’t noticed her, and it was obvious he was searching for something. He made no movements to remove his bag or scarf, so Bentleigh knew he hadn’t planned on staying; he was also planning on coming in and out unnoticed, to leave once again without so much as a goodbye. 

Furious, she wasn’t going to let him get away with it a second time. 

“Something I can help you with?” Bentleigh broke the silence a little more cooly than she had anticipated, her nerves getting the better of her, revealing the truth of her emotions plainly. Asra jumped in surprise before turning to face Bentleigh, a guilty look upon his face. 

“Bentleigh...” he trailed off. “I didn’t think you’d be back already.”

Bentleigh crossed her arms, and raised a brow at him, unbudging. Now that they were face to face again, she wanted better answers, clarity. What his plans were and what did that mean for  _ them.  _

Asra faltered, and Bentleigh let him hang there. 

Finally, he took a breath and said further, “I was hoping you hadn’t returned yet. That you were still with Julian; helping. And that I could take the easy way out.” He started to make his way towards Bentleigh, eyes wide and glistening, much like Bentleigh assumed she looked as well. “That I didn’t have to face you like this. With you looking at me like that.” 

He made a move to reach out towards her, but Bentleigh shook her head. 

“Asra, don’t do this.” 

As she shook her head, she could feel herself losing resolve. Tears that had been threatening to shed all night finally shook free. She could feel herself shattering into pieces.  _ Like that stupid glass vial,  _ she thought morosely to herself. 

It would be her tears that also led to Asra’s undoing. He walked towards her anyways, hands reaching out to cup her face gently, instinctively ready to wipe away her tears. 

“Don’t cry...” He tried to sound soothing, but Bentleigh heard the crack in his voice. If she were to actually look at him, she’d see they were mirrors of each other.

“Then don’t go,” she managed to spit out. “Stay here, with me, like you promised you would.” 

Her own hands sought his, gripping them tightly around her face, she still needed to feel them. It was as if they had no control over their bodies, when together something within them was always seeking each other out. To touch, to share their connection. Asra had placed the lightest of kisses to her closed eyelids, soothing her tears, but as his cheeks brushed against her own, she could feel his own wetness mingling with hers. She knew what he was going to say before he even said it. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” Bentleigh barely managed to whisper out. 

“Then let’s not say it.”

Everything that followed was a blur. With all her frustration, rage, and sadness, Bentleigh had surged to meet Asra’s lips with her own. They may not have been able to say it out loud to one another, but she could feel it in their actions. This was goodbye, the last time she was going to be able to touch him like this. 

Her despair still lingered but her rage turned into hunger. If this was to be their last time, she wanted to remember it all. Slipping her tongue past Asra’s lips and pressing it against his own, she deepened the kiss while her hands scrabbled to find any purchase of open skin she could find, pulling his shirt up so she could press into his abdomen.

Everything they’d couldn’t say poured out into their touch. Asra’s own hands had slid from her face, trailing down her sides, while his own mouth followed, pressing his lips to the side of her face and working their way down, paying particular attention at her collarbone, sucking at the sensitive area, then lavishing it with his tongue apologetically. 

Tilting her head back, she moaned approvingly at the sensation, but she desired more. Bentleigh made quick work of Asra’s top layers, scarf and shirt tossed aside to the floor. Her nails scratched lightly along his back as it was exposed to the cool air, and Asra hummed in satisfaction. 

He was toying with the ties of her top, teasing, but Benteigh too pent up, her emotions in overdrive, quickly tugged and shimmied to help Asra in getting her own top off, to which Asra made quick work of the newly exposed skin to him. 

Bentleigh’s breasts had peaked at the chill of the night air and Asra took advantage, nipping a pert bud into his mouth, while a hand played with the other breast, fingers rolling and giving a light tug to the nipple. She couldn’t help but moan at the sensation, and like a moth to a flame, Asra chased after the sound, his own mouth absorbing the end of her moan into him. 

As they kissed, only pulling away to draw breath, Asra’s hands were still on her chest, massaging her breasts in sync with their breaths as his thumbs brushed against the nipples, keeping them pebbled teasingly. Her own hands sought after more, playing with the waistband of his pants for a mere second before divesting them off of him as best she could. He wasn’t entirely complaisant, being much more focused on other matters at hand, but he did his best to shimmy his backside minutely to help a little, enough for it to matter at the very least. It wasn’t until she ran her hand along his length that he finally pulled away. Nestling his forehead against the crook of his neck, he let out a needy groan. 

There was so much she wanted to do. So much she wanted to say. But they were well beyond that point. So desperate to feel something one last time, they hadn’t even moved from that spot in the shop to find a better, more comfortable place. 

Sinking down to her knees, Asra followed with her. They collapsed onto one another, finding purchase in each other’s skin until they could be as comfortable as they could get, she was still going to have rug burn on knees the next morning with Asra sitting below her, propped onto his elbows to be closer to her, she had straddled him over his lap, one knee on either side of his hips, she lifted up her skirt and arranged it to allow for better access. 

Gripping Asra’s length below her, lining it up, Bentleigh paused for a moment, savouring the tension, the feeling right in that moment. She was holding her breath, and she hadn’t realized until Asra placed a soft kiss above her heart, bringing her back from her thoughts, back to him. She let her breath go, and chasing away her anxieties, she sank onto him without remorse, fully engaged in just feeling. 

They had both let out a cry once she had fully sheathed herself upon him. Taking a moment to take in each other, breaths in sync, until her heart felt too full. Asra relaxed onto her back, pulling Bentleigh forwards and holding onto her hips to keep her steady. Bentleigh leveraged herself, placing her hands on his chest as an anchor and began to rock herself, slowly at first, but each bounce she could feel herself picking up the pace, and Asra was matching her at every motion with his own hips. 

So focused on the feeling and the actions, her climax had snuck up on her without her realizing. She bit her lip, as she squeezed her core around Arsa, trembling until she couldn’t hold herself up anymore, her forehead falling onto his chest as she caught her breath. 

Asra still held onto her, pumping into her, through her high, until she heard the tell-tale signs she had grown to recognize, the hitch in his breath, the soft grunt. She pulled herself off of him with as little effort as she could get away with, her head still resting against his chest, her knees straddling his thighs now, she held him with every ounce of want she could express as she pumped him through to his own finish, spilling over her fingers and his abdomen. 

They lay like that for unending moments. Time seemed to have stopped for a while, as they panted into the silence. Their hearts were beating quickly as if they were trying to beat in harmony, but the truth hit Bentleigh that they were no longer in harmony. 

She was too tired to have any tears left, and as their breathing became more regular, they slowly pulled away from each other. They had said all they needed to say, and they knew there was no convincing one another either way. 

It was a silent affair, they pulled themselves off the ground, and pulled their clothes back on. Asra took a moment to recheck his bags while Bentleigh tidied up, finally sweeping up the glass she had broken what felt like an eternity ago. They didn’t speak to one another, they never even made eye contact. As Bentleigh was disposing of the broken glass, she heard the door close. 

_ Goodbye.  _


	5. Heaven, Has Got Nothing On Us

It was so routine by now, but it was still her favourite day. They even had their own name for it, Market Day. It wasn’t an original name, but that’s all it was. A simple day, a quiet (in a manner of speaking) day, for just the two of them. They kept the shop closed for the entire day, and never made plans with others. Friends and family may have also learned the more embarrassing way not to interfere on this one day. 

They had called it Market Day, just as a way to remind one another to make time to shop, fill their home with good food and fresh ingredients, not meeting Julian every other night in the tavern- once in a while was fine, but Bentleigh wasn’t sure if her liver could take a repeat of that one week that inspired the routine of Market Day. 

As the weeks went by, Market Day progressed. Since they were scheduling out a specific day to go to the town market, they had also decided to close shop for the day to allow for as little distractions as they could as to not forget their original purpose. With the shop closed, they allowed themselves the luxury of taking their time in the morning (or not waking at all). Often it wasn’t until the sunlight lit the entire room, to which it had no effect on either Asra or Bentleigh, content in one another’s arms, sleeping heavily, but it did bother a particular snake who enjoyed perching on the windowsill until the light became too much. 

When Faust had had enough, she would make her way grumpily from her favourite spot, towards her second favourite spot- on the bed between her two favourite people. They were always wrapped snug around one another but Faust always managed to squeeze her way in between. Once successful, she’d have a joyful claim of “ _ tight!”.  _ Hearing Faust and the sensation of being pushed apart would always rouse the two magicians from their slumber. Asra would pout a little, being woken up from his sleep, and Bentleigh would laugh, stroking a contented Faust along her head before turning her attention to the one pouting, giving him a sweet kiss against his downturned lips, effectively turning them into a grin. 

Then the game would begin. Bentleigh would make to leave the bed and Asra would pull her back in, seeking more kisses. He’d kiss her playfully everywhere he could, the tip of her nose, by her ears, her shoulders, absolutely everywhere until her whole body blushed, and she would finally push him away insisting they had to make it to market before all the good produce was gone. (They always did, in fact they had become close with some of the sellers that they would put their best goods aside for the two just in case.)

Eventually they’d make their way out of the shop with Bentleigh taking a quick mental stock of things they could add to the store if she were to see it while they were out. Faust would alternate on whose shoulders she wanted to hang off of, and whoever didn’t have Faust would lock the shop door behind them. Hand in hand they’d make their way towards the marketplace. The weather was perfect no matter on these days. If there was sun, they’d take a more leisurely pace to soak in the heat; if there was rain, it was an excuse to huddle a form of shelter together; if there was wind, Bentleigh made sure to appreciate pinkening around Asra’s face from the sharp chill. 

It was a standard procedure, following the same path they usually did around the stalls. Some stalls they visited regularly for their fruits and grains, others only when something interesting caught their eye, or if Faust was showing a keen interest in trying to get a treat. Asra had a tendency to stray towards finding trinkets to add into their already vast home collection while Bentleigh was more practical, looking at what she could add to the store’s shelves or into her own personal magical supply. 

Finally as the sun would begin to lower, dusk taking on, they’d make their way to the baker. His final loaf of pumpkin bread for the day, ready and waiting for them on the same table they sat at each time. They’d drop their purchases immediately to the ground and let out a relieved groan at the pleasure of finally sitting after a day of walking, and as soon as they sat, two cups of warm spiced tea was placed in front of them. They’d sit in silence enjoying the warm delights before them, and as they were finishing the last dregs of their tea, they’d discuss in conspiratorially low voices as to how best leave their tip behind that current week. They used to insist on paying upfront, with the baker always denying accepting payment from his favourite customers, and that seeing them so happy together was payment enough, but the two weren’t satisfied. So every week they would find a new place to hide some form of payment, always changing because once the baker caught on, he was to make sure they couldn’t repeat it again. Luckily they had Faust who could get into obscure places unnoticed. 

After securing that their tip had been given, they’d reluctantly pick up their purchases once again, finally making their way back to the shop, back home. 

Once past the doors of the shop, Bentleigh always then had the challenge of putting everything away while Asra hung off of her. He always claimed he was helping, grabbing an item that coincidentally needed to be placed on a shelf above Bentleigh, so he could hold onto her waist with one arm, while he reached above her with his other arm, placing items haphazardly. When the last of the items were put away, she’d already be wrapped in his arms. She only had to turn around so that they were face to face, each a reflection of one another, grinning in happiness. 

Bentleigh would cup her hands around Asra’s face, pulling him in to her for a kiss proper, and they stayed like that for a while. Eventually Asra, never letting his own face stray far from hers, would lead them back to the bedroom, where they would fall into bed once again, holding onto each other and letting sleep take over until the next morning. 

It was the same every week, and Bentleigh wouldn’t change it for the world. 


	6. Without You (I've Got No Hand To Hold)

Maybe she was a little tipsy. Maybe she had a couple too many drinks. But Bentleigh was definitely not drunk. It wasn’t her fault that those little pink drinks were so sweet and delicious. It was actually both Julian and Portia’s faults for being bad influences on her, continuously buying more drinks and handing them around to everyone. 

Bentleigh was having such a good time just being around her friends, she wasn’t keeping track of how many she had already had, nor was she planning well enough to drink water in between rounds. She just let the tavern music take a hold of her, grabbing onto Asra and pulling him to a spot with enough room for the two of them could dance. Then, Julian would squeeze himself in to join their dancing, Portia followed, Nadia watched for a moment- skeptical before also allowing herself to be pulled into the joviality, Muriel on the other hand could not be convinced- left to watch at the table, with Faust as his company until one of them tire from dancing and would join the brooding man. 

  
  


It was rare to find time that they could all be together, and be together so freely. It was perfect. The music was loud, but so was her laughter, as Bentleigh felt the intoxicating effects of her drink warm their way through her body; she was warm and tingly, and she wanted to dance with Asra, letting him and his magic aura follow after those tingling effects. 

As the night went on everyone slowly made their way to their respective homes. Muriel was first to go, mumbling about checking in on some stuff; eventually Portia and Nadia made their exit, arm in arm as they made their way back to the palace; leaving Bentleigh, Asra, and Julian until a tired Faust squeezed her way around Asra with a sharp cry of “ _ bed!”  _ that had both Bentleigh and Asra giggling and conceding that it was perhaps time to finally go back to the shop, seeing as Julian appeared to be falling asleep in one of the booths anyways.

Once they had left the tavern, the sharp bite of the night air hit Bentleigh, taking away all the warmth she had a few mere moments prior. Faust had squeezed tighter around her shoulders when Bentleigh gave an involuntary shiver. 

_ “Wobbly!” _

Asra chuckled at Faust’s yelp and gingerly took her off of Bentleigh and onto his own shoulders, to which Faust immediately burrowed into the layered scarf seeking warmth and a better foothold. With Faust secure, Asra turned his attention to Benteigh, holding her by the elbow and offering support. 

“Are you alright? Had a little too much fun tonight?” 

Bentleigh leaned into the support he provided her and allowed her head to rest on his shoulder for a moment, at least until the spinning stopped. 

“Nooooo,” she slurred out, regrettably pulling herself away from Asra. “Tonight was fun. I had an appropriate amount of fun, see?” Bentleigh stated as she started to take a few steps out onto the street independently, wanting to prove that she could keep steady all on her own. 

So focused on her own steps, she missed Asra keeping an adoring yet watchful eye on her, and followed her close behind. Bentleigh’s hands were extended, helping her find balance as she gave herself mental directions to walk steadily-- just one foot in front of the other, going in as straight of a line as she could manage back to the store. With all her attention on the actual act of walking, Bentleigh failed to pay attention to the street they were walking on. Her foot caught on a stone sticking out and felt herself lose any semblance of balance that she was maintaining. Luckily her hands were already out, now ready to break her fall as she let out a cry. 

Closing her eyes, Bentleigh braced for impact with the ground, but it never came. An arm was wrapped tightly around her waist preventing her fall and she could feel Asra’s breath quickening against the back of her neck. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. 

At his declaration, Bentleigh let go of the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding and gave into the reinforcement Asra had provided her and allowed herself to be put upright again. Embarrassed, she refused to look at Asra in the eyes, looking forward instead. 

“Thanks,” she murmured. 

Asra was never one to be thwarted, choosing to hug Bentleigh from behind if she wasn’t going to look at him, squeezing her tightly and letting his hands rub up and down along her arms, encouraging more circulation throughout her body. Hopefully an increase of blood flow would go to her brain, clearing it up a bit, she thought ruefully to herself. The two of them stood like that for several breaths until Bentleigh felt satisfied in her own stability once again. 

“Okay,” she exhaled. “I’m good now. You can let go.” 

Asra shook his head, his nose rubbing against her nape. “Maybe I don’t want to.” 

Even if she couldn’t see it, Bentleigh could feel the grin Asra was making. 

“Asra, we can’t walk back like this.”

Eventually he relented, and Asra let go of Bentleigh. 

“Okay, you may have a point,” he started. 

Nodding in satisfaction, Bentleigh grabbed Asra by the hand, leading him back to the shop, back to their home. 

Asra followed willingly, entangling his fingers with her own and squeezing her hand a little tighter than necessary, ready to pull her back up if she were to fall again. He would always look out for her, ready to save her from falling, and if he couldn’t save her, he’d at least always be there to help her back up again. 

This time, he wasn’t going to let her go. 

  
  
  
  
  



	7. See The Butterfly's Colours

“You’re going to have to trust me Bentleigh.”

“...What do you have in mind?”

“Darling, what did I just say about trust,” Nadia sighed, fingers gingerly unwinding the plaits throughout Bentleigh’s hair, letting all the hair fall loose and free around her face. 

It had been one year. One year since the last masquerade. One year of nothing but peace and happiness in Bentleigh’s life until Nadia came rushing to her one day, whisking her away back to the palace and insisting to Asra she was in good hands. Another masquerade was to be held and Nadia was looking for ‘a fun little side project’. Most of her plans were so meticulously well organized from the previous affair, she had little work to do, and wanted to add some excitement to her planning, so she had decided to give Bentleigh the makeover of a lifetime. Or so she claimed. 

Bentleigh was wholly opposed to the idea. She was happy with how she looked. Her clothes were comfortable and her hair stayed out of her face while she worked. She crossed her arms and pouted in protest. 

“Bentleigh, it’s only for a night. Where’s your sense of adventure. And think of your dear Asra’s face when he’ll see you. Absolutely surprised.” Nadia placated, while holding Bentleigh’s hair in her hands, raising and lowering them, assessing for length. 

Letting out a resigned huff, Bentleigh uncrossed her arms and finally acquiesced. “Fine, he did say to try and have fun and enjoy myself.”

Nadia hummed, still playing around with Bentleigh’s tresses, clearly focused primarily on the task in hand. “And I’m sure he’s excited as well, for the end results.”

Bentleigh nodded. “Yeah, unlike myself, he actually likes surprises.”

“And surprise him we shall.”

A few days later, it was finally the day of the masquerade. Bentleigh had been stuck in the palace having her hair combed and styled, her body scrubbed raw and anointed with a blend of at least 20 oils, and she tried on more gowns and corsets than she could have ever fathomed. 

As dramatic as it sounded, for the past year, these few days were also the longest she spent away from Asra, and she was missing him. She didn’t want to wait until the night of the masquerade to see him, especially with this new look of hers, she was self-conscious enough as is about it all. Luckily she had found compromise with Nadia, Asra would arrive early, before all the other guests, and Nadia could reveal her hard work between just the two of them. That way if Asra found her too unrecognizable, she could quickly retreat and change back into and old top and skirt, and if he was as enchanted with her new appearance as Nadia swore he would be, then Bentleigh wanted some extra time to spend with him alone so he could  _ appreciate  _ it more. 

Nadia must have found the day to day of masquerade planning now quite boring, or Portia had some hand in it all- and if Bentleigh was a wagering woman, she would put her jewels on the latter, because they were building quite the dramatic flair to the whole event of the makeover. 

They had insisted on having Bentleigh’s reveal in the main ballroom. Asra was waiting for her at the landing of the grand stairs, while Portia had Bentleigh stuck in a room on the second floor, not far off from the ballroom. Portia and Bentleigh had their work cut out for them as Portia pulled on the corset, effectively squeezing on her ribs and raising her breasts. Bentleigh wasn’t unused to corsets, but this was certainly tighter than any she typically wore, and the remainder of the dress was also more form fitting than her usual attire. Her movement was more limited in her current getup than her normal flowy skirts. 

“Wow Bentleigh, not to be crass, but who knew you had such a figure? Asra’ll have to be careful tonight, because everyone’s going to be throwing themselves at you,” Portia commented, making her final adjustment to Bentleigh’s look, while Bentleigh fought the rising blush heating across her body. 

She never dressed to capture the attention of anyone, practicality and comfort always coming first for her. Naturally she had certain tastes that she gravitated towards to reflect her personality, her choice of fabrics and multitudes of colours for example, but tonight went against all of that. Her dress more form fitting, with a simpler colour palette; her hair a little shorter and tucked up, keeping her neck more exposed than she was used to. Her makeup was softer as well, less mystical, more feminine. She barely recognized herself when she looked in the mirror, she looked like royalty, not like a practicing magician. 

As Bentleigh was busy getting ready, Nadia was keeping Asra company in the ballroom, chatting over whatever topics took their fancy unti Portia’s arrival at the top of the stairs caught Nadia’s attention. Portia gave a signal that they were ready, and Nadia cleared her throat, turning Asra’s attention back to the top of the stairs. 

“Asra, may I present the new, not improved, but different for the night, Bentleigh,” Nadia announced, gesturing to the stairs. 

Bentleigh heard her cue, but her legs couldn’t move, nerves taking over her. She wasn’t the type of girl to do this. She didn’t match the image she saw in the mirror. 

Nadia cleared her throat again. “May I present, Bentleigh,” Nadia announced, putting a little more emphasis on Bentleigh’s name that time, but Bentleigh still didn’t move. 

Portia gave Bentleigh an encouraging push and whispered in her ear, “You look amazing, trust us. Asra’s going to fall in love with you all over again. Just go and have fun and enjoy it for tonight.”

Finally Bentleigh found her feet moving again as she made her way towards the stairs. She descended onto the first couple of steps and then stopped to look at Asra. It turned out both Nadia and Portia were right, he was speechless and staring back at Bentleigh with an adoring fervor that Bentleigh hadn’t seen before. They made eye contact, and Asra had taken a breath, his lips parting just so. Giving her more confidence, Bentleigh raised a brow and continued her descent down the stairs as Asra rushed closer to the last step ready to greet her. 

Luckily he was ready for her at the last step, for Bentleigh had overshot her step, trying to take a larger step than her dress allowed her to move and she ending up tripping forwards trapped in her tight fabric confines. 

Asra was right there and ready to catch her, laughing, “She’s still the same Bentleigh!‘

Nadia nodded. “Of course she is, We would never change who she is, but for tonight she’ll be a princess.”

Asra hugged Bentleigh close to him after he deftly caught her, bending his head so he could whisper in her ear. “You’re always a beautiful princess to me, but tonight, everyone else will get to see what I see. Just know, I don’t plan on sharing that for more than one night.”


	8. (The Soundtrack)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who made it through the journey between Bentleigh and Asra, here's a little treat! This is the soundtrack/playlist that I've curated for the two. <3 Enjoy and thank you for coming along on this journey.

**i.** lovers _anna of the north_

**ii.** sanctuary _james tw_

**iii.** every little thing (he does is magic) _mymp_

**iv.** dusk til dawn _zayn, sia_

**v.** drummer boy _misterwives_

**vi.** sad song _we the kings, elena coats_

**vii.** rainbow _south border_

**viii.** lucky _jason mraz, colbie caillat_

**ix.** i was made for loving you / please don’t say you love me _kina grannis, gardiner sisters_

**x.** my lover _birdtalker_

**xi.** favourite colour _carly rae jepsen_

**xii.** sunflower _post malone, swae lee_

_listen on[spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5q0IBlpaM6ZerOMttGEozF?si=vmPSRGbZTZmcIV1-AKoKqA)_


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